“This is well,” continued Heyward; “and
Le Renard will have strength and sight to find the
path in the morning”; he paused, for sounds like
the snapping of a dried stick, and the rustling of
leaves, rose from the adjacent bushes, but recollecting
himself instantly, he continued, “we must be
moving before the sun is seen, or Montcalm may lie
in our path, and shut us out from the fortress.”
The hand of Magua dropped from his mouth to his side,
and though his eyes were fastened on the ground, his
head was turned aside, his nostrils expanded, and
his ears seemed even to stand more erect than usual,
giving to him the appearance of a statue that was made
to represent intense attention.
Heyward, who watched his movements with a vigilant
eye, carelessly extricated one of his feet from the
stirrup, while he passed a hand toward the bear-skin
covering of his holsters.
Every effort to detect the point most regarded by
the runner was completely frustrated by the tremulous
glances of his organs, which seemed not to rest a
single instant on any particular object, and which,
at the same time, could be hardly said to move.
While he hesitated how to proceed, Le Subtil cautiously
raised himself to his feet, though with a motion so
slow and guarded, that not the slightest noise was
produced by the change. Heyward felt it had now
become incumbent on him to act. Throwing his
leg over the saddle, he dismounted, with a determination
to advance and seize his treacherous companion, trusting
the result to his own manhood. In order, however,
to prevent unnecessary alarm, he still preserved an
air of calmness and friendship.
“Le Renard Subtil does not eat,” he said,
using the appellation he had found most flattering
to the vanity of the Indian. “His corn is
not well parched, and it seems dry. Let me examine;
perhaps something may be found among my own provisions
that will help his appetite.”
Magua held out the wallet to the proffer of the other.
He even suffered their hands to meet, without betraying
the least emotion, or varying his riveted attitude
of attention. But when he felt the fingers of
Heyward moving gently along his own naked arm, he
struck up the limb of the young man, and, uttering
a piercing cry, he darted beneath it, and plunged,
at a single bound, into the opposite thicket.
At the next instant the form of Chingachgook appeared
from the bushes, looking like a specter in its paint,
and glided across the path in swift pursuit.
Next followed the shout of Uncas, when the woods were
lighted by a sudden flash, that was accompanied by
the sharp report of the hunter’s rifle.
..."In
such a night
Did This be fearfully
o’ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion’s
shadow ere himself.”—Merchant of Venice
The suddenness of the flight of his guide, and the
wild cries of the pursuers, caused Heyward to remain
fixed, for a few moments, in inactive surprise.
Then recollecting the importance of securing the fugitive,
he dashed aside the surrounding bushes, and pressed
eagerly forward to lend his aid in the chase.
Before he had, however, proceeded a hundred yards,
he met the three foresters already returning from their
unsuccessful pursuit.
